Skylark
by fukashi-i
Summary: This is a small story, really, narrated by a thousands-year-old fox which is me. The main characters are two pilots whom I'm fairly fond of. In this story, I am nothing but an observer, a bystander and a raconteur wishing for audience... So, would you mind if I tell you a story? (Inspired by Pearl Harbor)
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Naruto. All credit goes to Masashi Kishimoto.

**A/N: **This is the first story I've ever uploaded on this site. Skylark is based on the movie Pearl Harbor with a bit more dramas. I hope you will like it. Constructive criticisms are welcome. Thank you for reading!

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0/ Prologue

A question and a few words before we can start this story.

Have you ever heard of the word 'skylark'?

Well, it's a bird-species in which the males sing while in flight. A hundred feet off the ground with a marvelous song. The skylark song is considered to be the most complicated one among others. And they always say complications make good tales.

Personally, I love skylarks and their song. I love the way they fly up high into the blue sky all suddenly then plummet down to land on the ground. You cannot imagine the power, the freedom, the epiphany that burst when a skylark spreads his wings and takes off. It mesmerizes anybody, even the coldest one.

However, what I'm about to tell you isn't related to the bird at all. It's just about a boy who reminds me of skylarks. So, if you're ready, I shall begin this little story. There will be countless people, pools of bloods, storages of planes and a lot of skies. Hence, prepare yourself well before we start.

Oh, right, I want to do something unorthodox once in a while. I will slip a bit of how the story ended first. That will probably make the story even more interesting, don't you think?

Hmm,

It occurred in a room.

Three people, including me, were inside.

One was about to take his last breathe. One knelt on the hard wood floor. I stood at the end of the bed.

That is all I can reveal to you at this moment.

One final thing, I'm not exactly the best raconteur. There will be moments I can't portray perfectly since I'm only an observer. To make it more clearly about my part in this story, I'd like to cite a quote from one of Francis Scott Fitzgerald's works.

_"I was within and without. Simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life." _


	2. Part One

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Naruto. All credit goes to Masashi Kishimoto.

**A/N: **Here is the first chapter of Skylark. I hope you'll like it. I'm not a native English speaker, hence I apologize if there are any mistakes. I'd be grateful if you can point them out to me. Thank you.

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**Part One**

_Featuring: two friends – an infant – a Hokage – a teacher – plenty reds and deads_

Having lived more than thousands of years, I was incredibly bored and found the life around me was sort of dull. I had learnt by heart all colors of the skies which were various and definitely more than a five-digit number. Life had been less tiresome and dreary when Kushina hadn't left me and returned to the other side of the world. She had been a great accompany; her husband, too. But the man had pissed me off painfully often. Even though our friendship was built with pranks and jokes, I could not deny the depth of that bond. It carved into me like a scar of valor that you were proud of and would never hesitate to exhibit. That scar remained unchanged no matter how much time had passed or what had happened. As long as your existence was still here, Kushina, I would continue to protect it with all my strength.

I remembered the day I found that little fragile soul in a sea of fire. The sirens had failed their duty. It was all too late. The fire became uncontrollable and destroyed the entire area. Hundreds of spirits walked out from the burning red. The smells of boiled bloods tortured my nostrils. Shattering sounds and shrieks cut my ears. Snowflakes of flickering ashes twisted my guts. Ignoring all of them, I hauled myself into the dead throng, searching for the nonexistence of two people. And replied to the hope I carried was a disappointment. I saw she stood there alongside Minato and there were tears falling out of her eyes. I had never seen Kushina crying before which was why it made me ache because I was supposed to protect her, to not make her cry. At that moment, I swore every molecules of me had wanted to embrace Kushina, to apologize. But none of them had happened, I retreated back to my lair without a second look back at the two.

An hour later, there was rain.

Soon, the sky became clear once again with a creamy blue. However, against that idyllic sky was nothing but a mangled plain. Corpses lied flat, stuck onto the ground, covered in dirt. A hint of remaining bloods streamed down the ditches, sweeping the dust. No sight of a house that was still standing. The small road which once had two paddy fields spread out on two sides was now covered in dirt and muds. With every step I took, I could see them in front of me vividly. For a moment, I thought I was in one of those documentaries walking alongside with my old friends, observing them whispering hopes and dreams to their son.

Their son!

An epiphany pulled all of my senses back together. I galloped to the old house which was now something like a rotten ruin. The front yard with an under-construction garden had bricks and woods covered up as half of the house had fallen down. The rest of it, I doubt it would be long for them to break.

There used to be a door here with a garland hanged on it. When you turned the knob, a warm light would greet you. Today was a Sunday. So Minato would be lying lazy on the sofa, watching some sport channels while playing with Naruto, his little man. The guy had always called his son like that then lifted the baby up in his hands before planting a kiss on Naruto's forehead. Kushina would poke her head out from the kitchen and tell the new father to be careful when he carried her precious. It was how it had once been instead of these crumpled, wrecked smithereens.

The warm-toned kitchen had been smashed down, completely. The place was my favorite spot to drop by whenever fresh flesh didn't whet my appetite. And then there was that living room.

A brick wall which used to have family pictures adored it collapsed on the ironwood settee. Minato had always been proud of that chair. When he brought it home with a high-up-to-the-sky price, Kushina had nearly lost consciousness. The guy simply grinned unapologetically and started complimenting the stupid thing on how firm it was and how rare the ironwoods were.

Though there was a time I had hated that settee and perceived it as a waste of money, today my perspective changed. I loved that damn settee so much that I could cry for it had saved the best of them, of Minato and Kushina.

Before this whole devastation, I had only held him once on the day he was born into this world. Oh, no, I'm not at all his god-father. That honorary title belongs to Minato's mentor who was also an annoying man and later on Naruto's mentor. For me, a fox who only held the kid three times in his life, a god-father was of great responsibility in which I could not bear. Also the second time I had him in my arms, he was on the verge of death. Tears and dirt stained his chubby cheeks. The sound of his heartbeat was so small, so quiet that it scared me. His fate was decided, the boy wouldn't last a day unless, unless I interfered.

Betraying on Mother Nature, going up against the death, I committed all those crime and lost my rights and privileges of being the God of Konoha mount. What a loss but it was worth it.

I have never regretted the choice I had made at that time.

A few hours later, the only survivor, an infant with whiskers, was found lying under the cover of two corpses.

As usual, no one saw me.

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There were times I detested humans to the bones. What a selfish, fiendish creature. How could they put all the blame on the shoulders of a kid who barely knew the world? Now, when I have pondered over this question enough, here is a fact: "When humans are in pain, they'd hardly care about anyone else but themselves, their wounds."

Nevertheless, was it right to despise and isolate an innocent boy?

Yes, his whiskers were weird.

Yes, his being the only survivor was too much of luck.

Yes, yes, yes.

However, were any of the above his choice? It was cruel to hate someone for their origin. It was ruthless to alienate a child. Had it ever occurred to them how much their demeanors could destroy a person?

"No," the man shook his head. "I'm sorry but I can't, Hokage-sama."

I knew this person. Hurt and agony from his parents' death had blinded his senses ever since that dreadful day. It must be hard for him right now, standing here, in front of the Hokage and about to be given an impossible task: "Taking care of Naruto." Apparently, there was a controversial matter raised at the previous meeting with the board. The Hokage was going to be occupied for a long while, hence, the kid would be lonely. Sarutobi wouldn't want that. Naruto had been lonely enough, no need to enhance it more.

"It has to be you, Iruka." The older man said firmly. I knew what he meant and that deep implication behind those five words. Seeing him always side by side with Naruto for over five years as his guardian, I found myself rather comfortable with the current Hokage – Sarutobi Hiruzen. He was a wise man, deserved and received everyone's respect, including Iruka's.

As a subordinate, what could the young teacher do but comply?

The next morning, I saw Iruka had arrived Naruto's house in an ungodly hour.

The kid was still deeply asleep, probably dreaming of the world where he was a part in it. Being seen had always been this little man's wish ever since he started to notice how the others treated him. Hard life had made him different from kids of his age. He didn't need toys or beautiful clothes. All he ever wanted was to be seen, to have his face reflect in someone's eyes, other than the current Hokage.

As you have been informed, Iruka would never give the kid his attention. Coming this early in the morning, he must have wanted to avoid Naruto badly. But there was one thing I had miscalculated, Naruto had woken up earlier than normal. The reasons hit me quite fast. Last night, Sarutobi had told him about the temporary caretaker. Moreover, today was a special day. The blond kid hid himself behind the door to the kitchen while his blue eyes were furtively analyzing the stranger with a glint of hope. I wished I could tell the little man to walk away, stop minding about Iruka but I didn't, I couldn't, knowing it would hurt Naruto. I had interfered in his life enough. It was better to leave things flow naturally from now on.

After Iruka had done his part, preparing breakfast for Naruto, I saw the young man quickly gathered his belongings and ready to leave any moment now. However, Naruto was oblivious to the other's eagerness to escape this house, escape from him. Oh, how naïve a kid could be. I closed my eyes, knowing what was about to happen.

The boy slowly took a step forward out of his hideout. _Act normal. Act normal._

"Hi," he said. "I'm Naruto." The boy held out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

The blond fidgeted nervously, beads of sweat trickling down his cheeks. Naruto wasn't used to this, formal greetings had never happened to him unless pranks and jokes were considered polite. Up to this point in Naruto's life, the only times people actually communicated with him were the moments he made a mess out of everywhere or did something inappropriate.

"I'm Izuka." The teacher said.

At that moment, I knew Naruto had realized.

A long time ago, I heard people saying that children, despite their innocence and naivety, were very sensitive. A baby could identify a person's feeling by one hug. A cry or a smile would be the signal from them to show their acknowledgement. I had thought it was ridiculous until I actually held a baby for once. I recalled that sunshine grin in my grasp, that flustered feelings ran through my veins. I also didn't forget that silent cry when Iruka closed the door behind his back, leaving behind an abnormally quiet Naruto.

Whenever this sort of situation occurred, the blond kid would quickly brush it off his shoulders. He was used to it. He was used to it. He was Naruto.

"Iruka-san!"

The second I saw Naruto ran out from the house and chased after the scar-faced man, I knew that kid was indeed the son of those two. After a series of clutching, nagging and squirming, Naruto was sent back to his house with a promise that he and Iruka would go eat ramen later.

I hardly believed that promise was made to keep.

* * *

I liked the color orange. It suited me best. But it didn't seem right on Naruto.

"I like orange," was the sentence that began the process of piling, storing and receiving a bunch of orange things in Naruto's closet. Minato was crazy but I never thought it was genetic. The kid looked like a walking carrot.

For some reasons which had been pointed out, I felt extremely irate whenever the kid took a stroll down the street, like now. In spite of the flashy color of his shirt or blondness of his hair or the loud greetings he once kept saying, no one looked at him. His presence was nothing but a bad omen. When people met bad omens, they would either pretend they didn't see it or walk away from it.

Naruto took a turn at the small lane that would lead to a small, shallow river. Then there was that old footbridge which had been left without renovation for five years. Once crossed this bridge, you'd be in the Kyuubi mountain. Well, it was used to be like that. They renamed the mount into Konoha last year in the memory of the people who died in that blazing inferno. Whatever, I couldn't care less even if I had once lived here. The stay wasn't _that_ special in retrospect. Before I met Kushina, there had always been just me wandering around the tiny shrine on the top of a mountain. Naruto found the place on the very day he perceived what the others had thought of him. He had run with all the strength a four-year-old boy could have. I had thought he would run forever, run until his heart stopped its beats. Thoughts were being thoughts, assumptions were just assumptions. His rapid steps paused as the sky floated in those pair of clear blue eyes.

I watched his bag shaking up and down as the blond tottered up on the stairs. A tune of Happy Birthday was dancing vaguely in the air. He was definitely not going to be a singe. I just knew it and hated myself for having good ears. The wicked gift only enhanced Naruto's terrifying voice.

"Eh?" The happy (torturous) tune came to a halt. My ears perked up.

There was another person here.


End file.
